Sass & Bite

"If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you" Oscar Wilde

Category: Things I Can’t

I swear to God,. . .

. . . if one more person walks into this lobby, looks at the elevator, then looks to me and says, “How do I get upstairs?”, I will officially, finally, lose all faith in humanity and just crawl under my desk and wait to die.

I’ve toyed with the idea of directing them back to the parking lot and up the service stairs at the back of the building, but honestly at this point I don’t even think I would find it amusing.

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PSA: Instagram Breaks are Good for Your Mental Health but Terrible for Your Overall Outlook on Humanity

So I’m writing what is, by my modest calculation, my 863rd cover letter. And it’s difficult. And boring. And I wish I could just write an offer for sexual favors in exchange for a job under my contact info heading and leave it at that.

But alas, my attorneys have assured me that would be unwise. So I took a brief recess to check up with everyone on Instagram.

I fondly laughed at the Flashback Friday to when Gucci Mane told the judge “Bitch I might be” when asked if he was guilty.
Jealously “liked” my friend’s photo outside the Sydney Opera House.
Made a mental note to check out the restaurant where someone tagged a really, really, ridiculously good-looking meal.
Pretty standard stuff.

And then. As I was scrolling past this lady’s photo of her new baby in his bedroom — because I’m generally not all that interested in strangers’ babies on the internet, you’ll probably be relieved to learn — I noticed one of the comments from a helpful Samaritan:

“Ah how cute! But you probably didn’t know that you shouldn’t have plants in you’re bedroom, it sucks up all the oxygen that you’re body need when you sleeping![sic]” (*Followed by a plant and green heart emojis).

I copied that exactly. That is what it says. To the letter.

And then, a few comments down, after a couple deadpan comments from people with a better grasp of science and also basic common sense, she got some backup:

“That is the first think I noticed too, Plants don’t belong in the bedroom. Your baby is adorable”[sic].

So I laughed, because honestly, it’s pretty funny. I don’t even have any snappy commentary, it’s just amusing.

Except then I realized they’re allowed to vote and also reproduce : (

Apparently Vegan Buffalo Wings are a Thing

I don’t want to live in a world where vegan buffalo things exist.

And count as someone’s “guilty pleasure”.

Every Time I Hear Katy Perry’s God-Awful Excuse for a Song, “Unconditionally”

I think of Bill Nighy in Love Actually saying, of his own attempt at a comeback song: “And particularly enjoy the incredible crassness of the moment we try to squeeze an extra syllable into the fourth line”.

Am Currently Looking into the Legality of a Judge Ordering Bieber to be Publicly Spanked as Part of His Sentencing

And not in the fun way.

Bieber Depostion

I’m serious, can we somehow make this happen? Or possibly a good old-fashioned pistol whipping? Because I don’t even believe in spanking, but I feel like it’s justified — nay, necessary — in this case.

Here’s the link to his deposition. Watch it, but only if you’re prepared to become enraged.

Someone needs to tell him how completely stupid and ridiculous and transparent and hilarious he looks while strutting and peacocking for the camera. It’s so obviously a performance. It’s like that scene in The Lion King when Simba is trying to roar at the hyenas and really it’s just squeaking. It’s like a girl stuffing her bra with rolled-up socks. It’s like a toddler who thinks he’s a gangsta who would actually shit his pull-ups when confronted with, like, Vanilla Ice.

Actually no, don’t tell him — it’s too funny. I mean, it would be funny if he wasn’t entirely too impressed with himself.

Some random thoughts:

1. His lawyer needs to man the fuck up and put him in his place. I grew up around a lot of lawyers, and I don’t care how much they get paid, not one of them would put up with that shit.

2. I laughed. out. loud. when he sighed and said “I object” as an answer to a question, for no apparent reason. Someone’s been watching too much People’s Court.

3. Who does your eyebrows, Biebs? They’re a little too neat for my taste, even for a girl, but they do highlight your delicate cheekbones and creamy skin nicely.

4. When he goes all “I’m hard shit, mo’fucka, don’t ask me about ma girl Selena again” —  just out of curiosity. . . what’s your next move? Cause you keep repeating it like he’s really gonna push you over the edge, but. . . it’s not like you can hit him. You can’t take legal action. If you storm dramatically out, you’re doing him a favor. Threat-making 101 — don’t make a threat you can’t follow through on. And perhaps most importantly: if you have to repeat your threat 8  times (I counted), it’s clearly not very threatening, now is it?

5. I marvel at his ability to infect even the grown men around him — theoretically well-educated professional adults — with his immaturity and temper-tantrum tactics.

6. He has the hair of an anime character.

7. I nearly peed my pants when he says “I think I was detrimental to my own career” and then is so clearly confused when they call him on it but tries to front like he isn’t and he did it on purpose and knows exactly what they’re talking about.
That should be his next tattoo.

8. How long do you think he practiced this little routine in front of the mirror? I’m going with at least an hour and a half. Right after bath time but before story time.

Sometimes You Just Need a Good Laugh

Last night, a girl from the UCSB Alumni Association called to update my information, and of course to ask me, as an alumni who benefited from my UCSB degree and all the services they provided me, such as the Career Center (I don’t know where she gets her information), to help current and future Gauchos.

With the simple contribution of a “small gift” of four donations, only $200 each.

I haven’t laughed that hard all week.

America the Aggravating

Because I am a singularly gifted judge of character with a unparalleled sense of human nature, I predicted that everyone would be freaking out about The Coke Commercial, and the reaction to The Coke Commercial. And every radio station and TV station and website is reading tweets and interviewing people, and it’s what always happens and it needs to stop.

Half of them are ignorant xenophobic jackasses and the other half are inflammatory, attention-seeking jackasses. Either way, for fuck’s sake let’s just stop indulging them.

I have only four things to say on the subject:

— “America the Beautiful” is not the national anthem.

— In case that doesn’t speak for itself: you don’t get to tell me shit about people not speaking english in America if your own tenuous grasp of spelling, grammar, and syntax is eighth-grade level at best.

— People who post these things should be required to staple a copy of it to every job or loan application they ever fill out for the rest of their lives.

— If things like “diversity” and “humanity” and “basic common sense and the most fundamental understanding of American history” aren’t your thing, by all means continue your family’s tradition of marrying your cousins. Its clearly working out well for you. Just don’t subject the rest of us to your nonsense.

People Who are Somehow Gainfully Employed While My Resume is Probably Being Automatically Deleted by Some Intern Somewhere

Sometimes I marvel at the people who have managed to get someone to pay them to theoretically do a job. Especially when it’s a job I was rejected from. A short list of those people:

1. The 25-year old who asked me what the word “peculiar” meant.

2. The cashier who, when I handed her a $20 bill and 18 cents to pay for my $18.18 purchase, asked why I was giving her extra money, because now she would have to give me money back. I gave her the benefit of the doubt — God knows I have my ditzy moments — and pointed out that she would have to give me money back anyway, because even without the 18 cents in coins, she would still owe me $1.82, but this way she could just give me two dollar bills instead of a bunch of coins.
And she could not grasp this concept. I had to explain to her twice how I wasn’t just pointlessly handing over piles of money she would just hand right back to me, at which point she did us both a favor and pretended she understood and just rang it up.
How do I know she was pretending? Because as I was halfway out the door, she said “Ooooooh. . . . I get it now”.

3. The man who told me how, when he was starting out as a PA, he was known for taking twice as long as every other PA at doing everything — because he frequently went shopping, took naps, went to Barnes and Noble to read, or hit up Starbucks when he was supposed to be out doing things.

4. The girl I went to high school with who thought that Inglorious Basterds was the true story of how World War II ended.

5. The waitress who was a total bitch from the get-go, then took our orders and didn’t bring my friend’s beer and disappeared for a half hour. When he finally got her to come back so he could tell her, she left and came back five minutes later, saying, in the snottiest voice possible, “We don’t have it anymore. That’s why you didn’t get it”, with an unspoken-but-very-clear “you total fucking idiot” tacked on the end.  And then stomped away without taking his order for a different beer.

6. Whoever is responsible at the Starbucks on Lankershim for ordering supplies and making sure they have things like, um, cups. And travelers. You’re Starbucks, how do you run out of these things?

7. The lifeguard who admitted to me that he frequently took naps behind his sunglasses while on duty.

8. The girl who I was trying to arrange an interview with who doesn’t understand the difference between “by” a certain time and “after” a certain time, and whose email was riddled with other typos, including but not limited to, her boss’s insistence that her employees have “good atention to detail”.

Things I Can’t: Rich Kids of Beverly Hills

I swear on my life I will leave this country.

A conveniently multi-ethnic-but-nothing-too-dark,-mostly-just-slightly-exotic group of rich kids

A conveniently multi-ethnic-but-nothing-too-dark,-mostly-just-slightly-exotic group of rich kids

I cannot any more with this shit.

I may or may not be late to the game here, I don’t know because I don’t have cable, so I’m (thankfully) not aware of most of the things that are floating around on there. But I was house-sitting this weekend and flipped past E! and stumbled upon an ad for this monstrosity of a television show, where I heard such gems as “Dom is better than Cristal. Don’t believe the hype” coming from the  mouth of some 16 year old twat whose taste buds aren’t even developed enough to tell the difference between Dom and Andre. Bitch, please.

Far be it from me to infringe on anyone’s creativity or free speech — even though I think we can all agree that this hardly counts as creativity since it is, as The Hollywood Reporter points out, basically a rip-off of Rich Kids of Instagram — but I really just think the people responsible for this should be shot in the face.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that we have the kids these days (good-for-nothing rapscallions!) doing shit like this in the first place, we’re now rewarding them by putting them on TV and inspiring other idiots to aspire to the same. Don’t get me wrong, I am an American. And a lover of beauty and quality and Chanel.  I have no problem with people amassing fortunes or appreciating luxury. But this is offensive to me.

Also, what the fuck, that one guy in the photo is balding. He’s clearly like 40 years old. And Chris Martin’s brother. What.

Ghetto Names According to Anonymous Internet People

via Nameberry

via Nameberry

In a moment of boredom and technological frustration on Monday, I went on Nameberry. Because I am what is known in some circles as a name nerd. But that’s not the point here.

The point is that, having never been on this particular website before, but hearing it was a good one, I decided to see what they had to say about my name.

Most of the time it’s the same: Meghan, a derivative of the Gaelic Irish Maeghan, meaning “the mighty”,  20 different spellings, absurdly, disgustingly common for girls born in the early 90’s, etc., etc., etc.

But Nameberry had something else in store for me. Something surprising. Apparently, according to username “happysunshine” (there’s a ringing endorsement for credibility), my name falls under the category of “ghetto”.

What.

I can safely say that I did not see that coming. Although it does explain a lot about me.

I didn’t choose the ghetto life — the ghetto life chose me.

Apparently it also chose Tiffany, Eliana, Jackie, and Jillian. This is the most ridiculous list of ghetto names I’ve ever seen. It’s a ghetto list compiled by someone who’s only ever seen 90’s teen rom-coms and thinks that “ghetto” means “white girl from The Valley”.

And then, just thrown in for good measure, are Latrice and Deshawn. And I don’t know why, but I’m nearly positive that among ghetto names, Deshawn is easily identifiable as a 90’s one. Don’t ask me how I know this, I just sense it. Like Tiffany, Amber, Brittany, Jason and Trevor of the popular white kid group, it is the quintessential 90’s teen movie name for the token black guy.

Just please take a look at that list. It gets funnier every time.

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